Addicted
by rizzles-4-lyf
Summary: Jane struggles with what happened at the end of season one! Not rizzles D: Strictly a ONE SHOT! Just to pass some time.


**Hi guys! I just want to say a HUGE thank you to all of you! I have received nothing but positive, encouraging comments from all of you and I appreciate it so much! If you ever have any stories you would like me to try and write, just ask! I will do it 99% of the time! This story takes place just after the season one finale! Enjoy!**

**Trigger warning; drugs, addiction.**

**Mauras Pov**

Jane had spent the past three months recovering from her gunshot wound. She was healing extremely well physically, but her mental state had taken quite a turn for the worse. I can't remember the last time I saw her eyes light up, or the last time I saw her leave her home. It had been hard, coping with her emotional turmoil while also trying to work and cope with the mental stress I will still incurring from the event that bought us here.

I stood outside her apartment, hearing the TV inside as loud as ever. I took two deep breaths, trying to prepare myself for what was about to come. I never handled this next part very well. I opened the door, swallowing the lump in my throat as I walked in, closing the door behind me. It was exactly how I had expected, filthy. There were clothes and plates everywhere. Boxes had started to build next to her television, the box covered with 'as seen on tv' logos.

Jane was passed out on the sofa, and I made a mental note to scold her for leaving her door unlocked again. I gathered as many plates as I could hold and stacked them in the dishwasher, turning the TV off so silence resinated through her home. As I picked the last plate off of the table, I noticed orange pill bottles; a lot of them. My heart skipped a beat. I knew what medication she needed, and as far as I was aware; she should have stopped taking them a month ago. I put the plate down, picking up one of the bottles; OxyContin. I felt my breath catch in my throat as I lifted another bottle; Percocet. The last bottle I picked up read Demerol. I sighed, placing them back where I found them.

I stood in the kitchen, staring at the wall, trying desperately to think of what I was supposed to do in this situation. I heard quiet groans coming from the sofa, and before I knew it, I saw Jane sit up. She smiled as she looked at me, her eyes glassy.

"Maura." Her voice was calm, more calm than I had ever heard it before. I sat down beside her, biting my bottom lip when she kissed my cheek lazily. "How are you baby?" She asked, popping open one of the pill bottles.

"Why are you still taking those?" I asked. It seemed like the only opening I may get to ask my questions, so I took it. She put up a finger, as if asking me to wait, as she put the pill in her mouth and swallowed.

"They make me feel better." She shrugged. "I'm still in pain." I knew she was lying, based on the fact she had three types of strong, addictive pain killers on her coffee table; there was no way she was feeling _anything._

"If you are still in pain we need to go to the hospital." I called her bluff, trying to keep my demeanour calm. The last thing I needed was to cry and fall apart, not here, not now. There would be plenty of time for that when I was home and alone.

"Do you think they'll give me stronger medication?" She asked, looking across at me, her eyes almost hopeful at my words. My heart sank as I looked into her eyes. Her light was completely gone. Her eyes were dark, showing nothing of the woman beneath them. I shook my head no, hearing her moan slightly beside me.

"Are you still in pain?" I asked, giving her another opportunity to be honest, to face what was going on right in front of hers.

"They make me feel better." She said, repeating her earlier words; totally bypassing my question. I closed my eyes, sighing as I leant forward, placing my head in the palm of my hands.

"I can't keep doing this." I said into my hands, feeling her touch my back lightly, and for the first time in my life, I flinched away from her touch. The action caught us both off guard as I moved to sit across from her on the coffee table. "I can't." I added, bringing us back to my previous comment. She frowned slightly, somehow unaware of what I was talking about. I picked up two of the pill bottles, standing up and walking toward the kitchen with every intention of washing them down the drain.

"Don't." Janes demanding voice came from beside me suddenly, making me jump. Her grip on my arm was strong, I felt my skin burn under her touch. She ripped the bottles out of my hands and walked back to where she was sitting. I rubbed my arm, knowing there would be a bruise there tomorrow. This wasn't the first time she'd been overly rough with me lately. Last week we fought because I invited her family over, and I ended up with a bruised rib.

I sat back in front of her, deciding this had to be it once and for all. I took her hands in mine, the touch making her look into my eyes. She was in a daze, completely unaware of my presence.

"You are losing me." My words were stained with pain, the tears burning behind my eyes threatening to take over and leave me a sobbing mess on the floor. "This is it. Once I leave this apartment today I won't be coming back." My words hit something inside her, her eyes softening slightly.

"Maura I'm okay, I'm just coping in my own way." Her slurred words told a different story, and I felt the first of my tears spill over.

"You are not coping, you are killing yourself." I told her, my voice breaking half way through my sentence. "I can't let you take me down with you." I felt like I was breaking up with her, but this was worse. This was like saying goodbye to someone who was dying. And that's exactly what it was, I realised.

"I don't ask you to come here." She spat, venom seeping through in her words, hitting me in the chest like a scalpel.

"No, I come here because I love you." I was angry now, so angry all I wanted was to shake her and scream in her face, but that wasn't the way I was raised. "I come here because for some stupid reason I feel like you maybe wanted me here. I come because I want to help you." She was staring at the wall behind me, as if I wasn't there at all. She was biting down on her bottom lip lightly, as if in deep thought. We sat in silence for what felt like hours before she spoke.

"I don't want you." She said, a cruel smirk on her perfectly shaped lips. Her words hit me in the chest, hard. "And I don't want any of your help." I swallowed hard, my brain not keeping up with what was happening.

"Who are you?" I asked quietly, looking all over her face for some sign of the woman I used to adore; the woman I used to look up to. She was gone. "Where is my best friend?" The words stung as they came out, my heart beginning to race, anxiety building dramatically in my chest. She didn't respond, bringing her legs up underneath her on the sofa. A long time passed with us sitting across from one another. Neither of us spoke, and neither of us looked away from each other's faces.

"I don't want to be here." She was fighting back tears, biting down on her fingernails as she spoke. It was too much for me, sobs escaping my chest at her words. I didn't know how to interpret what she had just said to me. Did she mean here or _here?_

"What does that mean?" I begged, needing the answer like water in my lungs.

"I hate what I've become." She told me, tears rolling down her cheeks as she spoke. I wanted to save her, pull her into a long hug and tell her she was okay, to tell her I loved her and was going to be here every day; but I couldn't.

"You need to stop taking these pills." She nodded slowly at my words. I was anxious as I picked them up, intentionally using the opposite arm than before. I held them in my lap, looking down at the half empty bottles. "I will stay here tonight if you let me throw these away. But if you keep these; I'm gone, Jane." I pulled her chin up, forcing her eyes to meet mine. "I will never be back." I needed the words to sink in, and as her face dropped, I knew it finally had.

I watched her walk to the sink, emptying the bottles down the drain and turning the hot water on. My heart was still racing, my stomach in knots. I moved to the sofa and waited for her return, letting her curl into my side when she did finally make it back.

She sobbed on my chest for hours before she was finally calm enough to talk properly.

"Don't ever leave me." She begged, gripping at my dress, which was now no doubly ruined. I decided this was probably the wrong time to be worrying about my Gucci dress.

"You need help." I told her, my voice far softer than it had been a few hours ago. The worst was over now, and now she needed to choose to let me help her. I wasn't going to fight with her, I couldn't.

"Help me." Her voice was quiet, barely a whisper, but she may have screamed it by the way my body reacted. I felt tears begin to burn once again, and it took everything inside me to fight them back.

"If you fight me on this I can't. I am trying to deal with what happened as much as you are, Jane." She moved, sitting so that we could see one another's faces, a move I wish she hadn't taken. I had no doubt my mascara had run down my face, giving me ridiculous panda eyes.

"Help me." Was all she said before closing her eyes, resting her head on my chest once again.

I didn't know how to tell her that I didn't know how to.


End file.
